Tsath| In Grey
"Bartender." The hooded woman spoke. The fat Twi'lek turned around, his long head-tails wrapped around his neck and his blue skin shining even more in the neon lights of the bar. The woman sat in the dense population of the establishment, the scent of beverages from half the galaxy and more filled the air. The buzz of conversation and the trill of laughter filled her ears. She sat encased within her black robe, only her nose and tattooed lips showed in the flamboyant lights.
"Oh, and what can I get for you, sweetheart?" The repulsive man spoke, leaning on the counter. "A glass of Numodian Tea." The woman's lips barely moved, flashing all different shades of neon as the lights flickered and danced around the bar. The obnoxious music fitted the place as well, an up-beat song that made a mockery of life. The fat one laughed. "Sorry, lady, we only carry poison."
"Processed water then, hm?" She lifted her head to look at the miserable thing that was attending to her, a single yellow eye peeking out from under her hood. She felt sorry for the thing, fetching drinks was obviously a physical chore to this one. His sweat gleamed in the light of the bar and he laughed again. "Only poison, lady."
She sighed as he began to talk to her. "Look, if you want to get a more mild drink I'm sure they serve those at a restaurant a couple clicks over. Place is called-" With a wave of her tan hand the bartender's face went blank and he changed the topic, speaking absent-mindedly, "Sure thing... Glass of water... Just for you..." The fat one walked into the back room.
"Making friends, are we?" A very refined voice spoke, an accent that strongly spoke of Imperial citizenry. A tall, lean man sat in the empty seat beside the hooded woman. He was dressed in a black longcoat, his boots making a soft click when he strode across the room. He turned to her, a small cap seated upon his head that made identifying him difficult. "And here I was thinking Sith executed bartenders for not serving them the right drink."
"They also execute smart-mouthed Imperials." The woman spoke, her words were soft, but had a subtle bite to them. They drifted in the air like burning sweet-spice. "Besides, Rikter," she continued as the fat bartender returned, placing a delicate glass of water in front of her. "I'm not a Sith anymore." The bartender sat dumbly for a moment before breaking his stupor and hustling over to serve another patron.
The Imperial chuckled. "Looks like you're developing a smidge of humor. I think my charm is rubbing off on you." The woman unveiled a metal hand from her cloak, grabbing the drink. Millions of small pieces of metal silently adjusted and moved, perfectly mimicking the movements of a real arm and a real hand. She stared at her metal hand as it grasped the drink for a moment, then raised it to her lips and took a small sip. Rikter watched her eyes under her hood, and watched them as they scanned over her replaced limb. She could've hid it beneath sleeve and glove, but she didn't.
"Refined Kortosis Cybernetic Prosthetics. Those cost quite the small fortune. More then any arm and two legs should, Qa'za. No lightsaber or blaster should remove them as easily next time." He truly admired the machinery that she bore, even the slightest muscle that she moved in her arm showed as small pistons and other unknown devices all worked together to perfectly mimic the lost arm.
Qa'za looked over at him and caught him staring at her arm. "It also attracts much unwanted attention. Not very appealing for your line of work, Rikter." He flashed a smile, his fine black moustache and single patch of hair on his chin curved with his mouth. "Ah, a shame, isn't it? Still doesn't mean I can't admire one of the finest pieces of technology this side of the galaxy." Qa'za shook her hooded head.
"You're still staring at my arm." She drank again, this time consuming the rest of the glass of water. "My prosthetic arm. That's almost as bad as staring at an ugnaught." Rikter let out a single laugh, his blue eyes and suave hair flashed in the lights. "I see your point. Ugly little bastards, aren't they?" Qa'za cast a sideways glance as she set her glass down. "Not as ugly as you after two mugs of Alderaanian Ale." Rikter gave her a look of shock as the very tips of her mouth curved into a smile.
"Qa'za! You wound me! And I thought my deadly good-looks were about to win that dark heart of yours." She shook her head as her small smile grew larger. She turned to him and her tone became serious. "Enough of our introductions. Do you have the information we need?" Rikter leaned back and gave her a seductive grin. "Indeed I do. Glad to see you're always eager." Qa'za nodded. Rikter continued.
"Our target is a Mirialan. You know them. Humanoid, green skin, geometric tattoos. Calls himself 'Vudo Phess.'" Rikter gestured with his hand, drawing small diamonds in the air over his face.
"Not a very Mirialan name is it?" Qa'za inquired.
"No it isn't, but it's just an alias. Can't get any other tags on this man. He's a freelance data-slicer, though he works for the Republic on most of his deals."
"Location?" She remained calm, for honestly cared little about the other details on the target.
"Red Light District. I got him tagged, seems like he's hanging around this one private club called 'Blacklight.'"
Qa'za merely nodded. "We better get moving." She stood up and made her way through the sea of tables, patrons, and waiters.
Rikter raised his brow and turned. "Hey! I didn't even order anything!"
"Maybe I'll take off the cloak later.."
Rikter scowled for a moment before deciding that it was more than a fair trade. He stood and followed her.
Qa'za opened the door of the cantina to immediately have her ears assaulted by the same drone of crowds, and the music of speeders as they whizzed by overhead. The flashing and extravagant lights of the interior she came from were not replaced, but surpassed. Holographic ads and neon signs were just as plentiful as stars in the sky. Rikter followed her out into the bustling plaza and smiled as he experienced the same thing.
"Nar Shaddaa. What I never get over is the smell." Rikter lowered his head the visor of his cap blocked sight of his eyes. "I can't decide if it's the industries' pollution that smells worse or if it's the mixed company of so many aliens." He then smiled a cynic's smile. Qa'za knew that Rikter was a sardonic man, and also a staunch Imperial. He may have saved her life by ordering and operating her prosthetic limbs, but in her eyes that hardly made up for his racism.
"I hope you remember the Sith were once aliens... and that I'm iridonian." Qa'za turned to him, making sure that he knew his crime. Rikter chuckled, meeting her gaze with a silvertongue's gaze. "Of course I know you're zabrak, and I know the Pureblood Sith are still in power. I'm just saying it's these lesser races that aren't worth our time." Qa'za started to walk towards the nearest taxi and gave up in challenging the arrogant views of an Imperial.
Rikter followed her, and began to probe Qa'za. "Why would it matter to you? I'm sure they all take the same time to crush their neck or rip them apart with your lightsaber." Qa'za walked towards the edge of the plaza, the edge of it falling off into a deep drop. There was miles of buildings, platforms, and signs above them, and below them. She hailed a taxi from a nearby terminal, then turned to address Rikter's question.
"Perhaps to another sith. But it seems I must remind you- I am not sith." Qa'za spoke with a cold passion behind her words. Rikter merely smiled. "Then what are you?" He proposed a good question, and he knew it. Qa'za answered calmly, "Just an 'alien' with a lightsaber, working with an Imperial Agent." The speeder taxi arrived, a machine pilot landing beside them and opening a door. The gust of air from the speeder caused Qa'za's robe to billow, and Rikter held his black cap. "Fair enough." He replied with a respectful nod.
"Where is your destination today?" The droid pilot spoke, the words coming out metallic and fluctuating. Qa'za entered the vehicle, Rikter following in suit.
"Red Light District, bring us's close ta 'Blacklight' as y'can." Rikter spoke quickly, suddenly losing his accent and speaking in a slurred dialect of some outer-rim colony.
"Complying. Your fare today is 78 credits. Please enjoy your trip." The doors of the taxi closed as it began to hover, then join into the streams of flying vehicles that twisted and flowed through the air.
The lights and buildings around them moved by quickly, lights flashing by and other speeders hummed past their own as traffic flowed in organized weavings. Rikter reached into his coat and revealed a small sliver of metal, tipped in small lights. He leaned forwards as if he was inspecting something in the driver's window, then shoved the spike into a panel on the droid's front. It began to surge with electricity, and the taxi wavered, quickly turning to the right. Qa'za was flung over, a few strands of golden hair falling out of her hood. She caught herself against the seats and shot Rikter a displeased look. She tucked her hair back into her hood.
"What was that? I thought you knew how to handle driver droids." Rikter sat down, and pulled out a small holographic interface, making a few quick adjustments and movements to the graphics before him as the sound of two cameras in the vehicle fizzled. "Sorry, ma'm." He spoke distantly, more focused on the task at hand. "Blasted droid has a frontal panel. Not very conspicuous, but it makes forcing their controls harder. Give me a moment..." Rikter then began to open up a new interface, and started up a new task.
"Alright..." Qa'za looked at the flashing lights that Rikter moved around and interacted with. "Do you have the level schematic?" She continued as he seemed almost lost within his work. "...and... Yes. I do. I have the whole club's security systems in our hands." He made a few quick slices and pointings with the interface when a large image of the tower the club was a part of appeared. The image focused on a platform two stories above the club. Rikter began to speak quickly and seriously. "This is our drop off point, the taxi will land here in about six minutes, so let's make this fast." Qa'za nodded.
To be continued…